Misty morning, Glowing greens, Hello again

Rain today. I walk the dog anyway, needing to move my body this morning. I pull on a hat to keep my shower-wet hair covered. As I step outside and become part of the show I was watching through the window, I notice how vibrant the greens are - they’re actually glowing. Neon light greens. Soft aqua greens. Dark forest greens. They appear still and joyful, soaking up this water falling from the sky.

It’s not raining too hard so I take a longer walk. Mist hits my face and tickles. I feel it like sparkles. Or the softest kiss. The world feels like love.

As I walk, the mist accumulates and I get wet wet. It seeps through my gloves. My boots get damp, but don’t soak through. I’m grateful. I take out the compost and smell the earthiness and the worm-smell. Working their magic. I say good morning, and thank you. The kitchen scraps - potato peels, onion skins, apple cores - become the fertile soil. Amazing. I think about how that cycle is noticeable beyond this.

I step back inside, towel off the dog who gets the zoomies, and I laugh as she streaks through the house like lightning. And as I sit down to start working, I slide open my drawer of painted papers and see glowing greens again. I smile and decide to record it.

* * * *

Yesterday I stumbled across an old blog post of mine as I was looking for a particular photo. I liked reading thoughts from me years ago. How we are the same. How we are different. And I thought, future me would probably enjoy a hello from now me. So hello. And hello to you, too.